Lost Moments
by Nixa Jane
Summary: A series of unrelated episode tags and missing scenes. Absolute Power tag added.
1. Children of the Gods

|message|season one|children of the gods|missing scene|  
  
Daniel stood staring down at the object in his hand. Such a common thing. An ordinary piece of everyday life. Except, it was something he hadn't seen in a year.  
  
Sha'uri was looking curiously over his shoulder. Obviously confused by what it was that he held.  
  
It was a Kleenex box. They'd actually sent through a Kleenex box.  
  
Only Jack.  
  
Daniel smiled slightly. It had to be Jack. But why were they contacting him now? They'd promised they would say that he was dead. That Abydos was gone. What had happened to make them tell the truth? Was it something he wanted any part of?  
  
Daniel shook his head at his selfish thought. They had lied for him--he owed them something for that. He'd lived one year in complete marital bliss, now it was his chance to repay the debt.  
  
Besides, he thought, he'd learned a lot in his time here. A lot about the Stargate and the real truths about things they had already believed they understood. About the universe they'd believed was so small.  
  
Abydos wasn't the only place now within their reach, he was sure. There were other places, countless other destinations. He'd been trying to reach them for months now, but there was something not quite right.  
  
The coordinates didn't work anymore. But then, that made sense, right? The planets couldn't possible have remained unmoving for so long.  
  
What would Earth do when they learned of the possibilities? He wasn't even sure he should tell them. His heart said to trust, but he remembered all too clearly the military's method of dealing with the unknown. They'd sent a broken man to destroy a world they knew nothing about.  
  
People that could do that were the very reason he found it so easy to leave Earth behind.  
  
Abydos was different. Every day here, every night, was a celebration of life. Prayers were whispered to the sky, thanking what ever real god that might have created them for setting them free.  
  
He didn't want to go back to Earth.  
  
And he had the worst feeling--that if he didn't bury that 'gate, he was going to have to.  
  
"What is it, my husband?" Sha'uri whispered.  
  
"It's a message. From Jack."  
  
Sha'uri watched her husband carefully. Waiting as emotions chased each other in his eyes.  
  
"They are coming?" she asked.  
  
"If we let them," Daniel said softly.  
  
"What will they do?"  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
Sha'uri saw the uncertainty in the blue eyes. But she also saw the curiosity. The need to know that he carried with him always.  
  
She knew before he did what he would do.  
  
"Jack might need my help," he said. "They wouldn't have told if it wasn't something important."  
  
"Let them come," Sha'uri said. "We will celebrate. Skarra will be glad to see O'Neill again."  
  
Daniel nodded. "But--"  
  
"Do not worry, Danyel. They are your friends."  
  
"My friends are here."  
  
Sha'uri smiled then, that knowing smile that always had Daniel wondering just how much she really knew about him. About everything. "Not all of them, Danyel. You have not stopped talking about O'Neill for a year."  
  
"I was worried about him. It seems he's doing okay, though," Daniel said uncertainly, casting a look at the Kleenex box. "He's gotten himself a sense of humor."  
  
"We will tell Skarra and the boys to make camp around the 'gate. They will watch it for you. And wait for O'Neill."  
  
Daniel nodded. His eyes were locked on the box he held within his hands. He took out his last working pen from a pocket in his robe, and then he looked to his wife. Sha'uri's eyes were wide but brave. She was scared. But she would stand beside him.  
  
Daniel placed the pen to the box, and hesitated only a moment.  
  
Thanks, he wrote. Send more.  
  
|The End| 


	2. Legacy

|compos mentis|season three|legacy|missing scene|  
  
You can't be insane if you question your sanity, isn't that what they say? The insane don't question themselves, right? They know for sure of their sanity.  
  
I've always questioned mine. No better time to do so than now, surrounded by white walls, padded for my protection and free completely of shadows of any kind. All this white light could drive a man mad.  
  
Even clouds cast shadows--don't they think that those of us in here might want a place to hide? Monsters. They're just monsters, that's all. Locking me away in here. I'm fine. Really, I am. A couple aspirin and a coffee is all I need. I'm sure the caffeine would scare the footsteps away.  
  
Cold, it's cold in here. Oh damn. Crazy people are always cold. Shivering and such nonsense. Better not let MacKenzie see. Ever since I started explaining about the zombies in the corner he's been upping my dosage. And more drugs are the last thing I need.  
  
Maybe I really am going insane, and it's just that I still have enough sanity left to realize it. Maybe tomorrow I'll be sitting in the corner telling my right hand how sane and well adjusted I am. I bet the hand would even agree with me. That would be just my luck.  
  
Oh no, they're back--those dead things. I slipped backwards along the bright white floor, seeking the small illusion of protection the wall behind me provided. There's nowhere for me to go--they put me in here to protect me from myself and inadvertently delivered me right to them. I'm right where they want me.  
  
Cornered and alone.  
  
The drugs they gave me didn't take them away. They only trapped me inside the dark world where they walked. Walked and walked, their footsteps echoing through me, their gruesome faces staring down and into me. They wanted something from me, wanted revenge--wanted death. I wasn't sure whose, mine or theirs.  
  
I couldn't give them either. Not in here, not trapped inside this light, with only one three inch thick glass window connecting me to the outside, pointing to the dark cold hallways on the other side of that damn door.  
  
I always promised myself I would never let this happen. I would never be like Nick. But now I was so much worse. He only saw giant aliens. I saw zombie Goa'ulds.  
  
I knew, somewhere inside the last working part of me, that what I was seeing wasn't real. That the footsteps were in my head. But my resolve that they were figments of my shattering mind was dwindling, and they were becoming every bit as real as the padding in the walls that kept me here.  
  
They just stood there. They were only three feet away, watching me with those dead black eyes. They made horrible noises too, and even pressing my hands against my ears couldn't block them out.  
  
I miss my team--but they're the last people on any world that I want to see. Not now, not until later, until I'm better. I don't think I could handle having them here now, while I'm barefoot and can't control what I say.  
  
Even if they were here I couldn't warn them. None of them would believe me. They hadn't believed me about the alternate world or that I had apparently gotten myself transmitted into the body of a dying old man. And those things I knew were true, I can't convince myself of any of this, I wouldn't stand a chance explaining what was happening to me to them.  
  
Best they stay away till I get my bearings, until those monsters let me out of here and the ones in my mind disappear. Because they are just in my mind. It doesn't matter that they look and sound real, they aren't. They can't be. Well, maybe they're a little real. Just somewhat real.  
  
Great, now I'm sounding insane even to myself. Maybe I should just give myself into it, go nuts, have a little sing along with the living dead stalking around in my little box of a room.  
  
No, no, no. Nope, not going to happen. I'm not going to let myself go crazy- -because this mind is the only thing I've ever had going for me, and I'm not going to give it up now.  
  
I pushed my hands into my eyes, trying to get away from the blinding, sickening, whiteness of this horrible place. Who came up with the idea of putting the mentally ill in this kind of room, anyway? They might as well have just stapled up yellow wallpaper.  
  
I hear the footsteps again, these are harder, and the zombies are already here, staring at me unmoving. The handle on the door moved, and I backed up further. These footsteps were definitely real, they belonged to the other set of monsters that won't let me alone.  
  
MacKenzie entered the room, two large expressionless men all in white flanking him as he stepped closer. I never realized how much I took color for granted until this moment.  
  
One of the men pulled out a syringe, and I could hear my voice calmly informing the men that I didn't need anymore. Like the other times, they simply looked at me pityingly and moved closer still.  
  
The big ones grabbed my arms as MacKenzie shook his head, and I was pinned half against the wall and half against the floor. I think they were talking to me, but my eyes were locked on the other people in the room, the decaying Goa'uld hosts, and nothing they said reached me.  
  
The needle plunged into my arm, and the whole padded cell tilted, the dead men blurring out of focus as I was sent spiraling to the floor. I tried to find something to hold onto, but everywhere I put my hands was flat. MacKenzie put a hand on my forehead, and told me to calm down, to sleep--as though closing my eyes would keep them away.  
  
I was starting to fear the real footsteps even more than the ones I imagined.  
  
|The End| 


	3. The Light

|looking down|season four|the light|tag|  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Hi, Jack."  
  
"Hi. What are you doing?"  
  
"What does it matter?"  
  
Jack swallowed and took another step towards his friend. He remembered the last time he had stood on this balcony beside him, and Daniel's voice was just as hollow as it had been then.  
  
Unlike the last time, however, laughter rang out behind them, instead of the haunting whistle of a forgotten tea kettle--and the voices of their friends could be heard just behind them.  
  
"People are asking for you," Jack said.  
  
Daniel placed his forearms on the banister--the only thing between him and the eight story drop. He looked down. "What do they want?"  
  
"How should I know what they want?" Jack snapped. He agitatedly ran a hand through his hair, shooting Daniel an anxious glance.  
  
"I'm not in the mood, Jack. I don't feel like celebrating."  
  
"It's your birthday, Daniel."  
  
"It's just a day."  
  
"Daniel---"  
  
"Do you ever just look out and watch the cars driving by?"  
  
Jack frowned. "What?"  
  
Daniel smiled wryly. "I forgot. You watch the stars instead. I can't see them well from here--not with all the street lights. Besides, the stars are still so unfamiliar. I got so used to the ones I would see on Abydos, I don't think I've ever quite adjusted to these."  
  
"Is this place still not home to you?" Jack asked softly.  
  
"No. I'm beginning to think it never will be."  
  
"That's a real nice thing to say--considering how much effort I've put into trying to help you adjust."  
  
"This place is so cold, Jack. And even Egypt isn't the same as it used to be. Abydos ruined everywhere else for me."  
  
Sha'uri ruined everyone else for me, silently echoed his words.  
  
Jack sighed, and leaned onto the banister beside Daniel. Neither of them spoke--they simply stared silently down.  
  
Sam caught sight of them on her way to refill her drink. She frowned and stepped outside. "What are you guys doing out here?"  
  
Jack gave Daniel a sideways glance. "Just watching the cars, Carter."  
  
|The End| 


	4. Meridian

|ghost|season five|meridian|tag|  
  
Daniel watched his friends laughing, as they headed to the elevator--glad to see them smiling again. But there was a sadness in his eyes as well, because he couldn't laugh with them.  
  
"What am I supposed to do now?" he whispered.  
  
"You can come with me--and I will show you the way."  
  
Daniel spun around at the voice. Oma Desala smiled softly at him, her form glowing in the same strange way he realized he was now as well.  
  
"Where?" he asked. "I have to leave my friends, don't I? I can't--I can't stay here."  
  
"You have already left."  
  
"Right," Daniel whispered, turning his gaze back to his team. "I guess I have."  
  
"You will be happy with us, Daniel Jackson. You must release them. Your path is paved now in another direction."  
  
"I just--as unlikely as it seems, this has been my home. For the last five years this is the only place I've felt safe. My friends are here, everything. I don't know if I can leave."  
  
"Lingering here helps neither them nor you."  
  
"No. No, it doesn't. I know that, but--"  
  
"You must come with me. It will be easier soon."  
  
"What if I didn't want to," he said brokenly. "What if I decided I made a mistake and this isn't what I want? Could I go back? Would you let me go back?"  
  
"It is not impossible. Some we believe ready when they are not. Some are simply not meant for this existence. But I don't believe that of you, Daniel. You were born for this."  
  
Daniel looked to the smiling faces of his friends before the closing elevator doors hid them completely. He lost a little bit more of himself then, one of the last pieces left behind when he had lost his ability to touch.  
  
She was right. He couldn't stay here. And even if it was possible, he couldn't go back.  
  
"No," he countered softly. "I died for this."  
  
|The End| 


	5. Fallout

|that old adage|season seven|fallout|missing scene|  
  
"Jack!"  
  
Jack O'Neill didn't turn around at the shout, instead hitting the elevator call button again. And again.  
  
"Jack," Daniel's voice was frustrated, and right behind him now.  
  
Giving up on thoughts of escape, he turned around to face him. He didn't feel like arguing at the moment--but he supposed now was as good a time as any to try and get Daniel to see sense.  
  
"Yes, Daniel?"  
  
"Were you planning on waiting for me?" he snapped. "I've been calling you since we left the briefing room."  
  
"I'm waiting."  
  
"Only because the elevator was taking too long to open."  
  
"Fate is on your side," Jack said with a grin.  
  
Daniel shook his head and wearily leaned back against the hallway. "Hardly. Jack--what are you doing? We can't just stop helping them."  
  
"Sure we can. It's easy," Jack said seriously. "We don't have any other choice here, Daniel. Those people are never going to see things the way we do. They're going to die because of all their damn politics and I say good riddance."  
  
"You can't honestly believe that whole planet deserves to be destroyed because of a few bureaucrats! I realize they're annoying--"  
  
"They're the god damned three stooges, Daniel. And I've had enough."  
  
"Fine. You've had enough. That's understandable. But did you have to take away my chance at getting through to them as well?"  
  
"Yes. You've already lost enough time because of them."  
  
"Jack--"  
  
"I swear to god, Daniel, if you start defending them to me--"  
  
"I'm not. I wouldn't. They've screwed up, Jack. I know that. But they don't deserve to die."  
  
"YOU didn't deserve to die!" Jack shouted, causing a startled airman coming down the hall to turn and walk rather quickly in the opposite direction.  
  
Daniel looked down at his feet, his hands in his pockets. He knew Jack's anger wasn't entirely directed at him. They'd already hashed this whole thing out--and he'd thought Jack had moved past it.  
  
"Jack, what happened on that planet was not the fault of everyone who lives there. We have a responsibility to help as many people as we can."  
  
"You're wrong. We don't owe those people anything. You certainly don't. You died for them, Daniel--and they can't even spare you five minutes of their time. They're not worth it. They never were."  
  
"You don't really believe that," Daniel whispered. "Jack, you can't."  
  
"Maybe if you knew what it did to us when you left you would understand," Jack said. "You saved their entire planet, and they wanted to blame everything that happened on you. Let the planet explode, Daniel. The universe will be better off."  
  
"And I would have given up a year of my life for NOTHING," Daniel whispered desperately. "I didn't save them then to watch them die now, Jack. Can't you understand that I have to do this?"  
  
"Yes," Jack responded, his voice softening. "Daniel, you would be doing it no matter what. Sometimes, though, there's just nothing anyone can do. You can't save them if they won't save themselves."  
  
"I have once before," Daniel reminded.  
  
Jack's eyes darkened. "Yes. And we've talked about that. And agreed you wouldn't do it again."  
  
"You agreed," Daniel said with a roll of his eyes.  
  
"This is exactly why I requested you stay here for the negotiations!" Jack snapped. "I don't need you shifting into martyr mode and getting yourself killed for them. This ISN'T your problem."  
  
"Teal'c and Sam are on that planet right now trying to help them, Jack. This is OUR problem. Maybe they're not perfect--but neither is Earth. What happened on that planet could just as easily have happened here. And I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want our entire planet condemned for the actions of a handful of people."  
  
Jack sighed. What had he been thinking earlier about talking sense into Daniel . . . ? "Daniel--" he started tiredly, but Daniel was already moving in for the kill.  
  
"Do you think there's only one Jonas down on that planet, Jack?"  
  
"I see your point," Jack snapped. "But it doesn't change a damn thing, Daniel. Because Jonas isn't running the place, and the people that are would rather see it destroyed than work together!"  
  
"And what about you, Jack? Would you really rather see it destroyed than try to work with them?"  
  
"Hey! I did you a favor, whether you realize it or not. I got them to shut up, didn't I? Now we wait and see if Carter, Teal'c and Jonas come through. If they save the planet then we're set. If not, well, then the stooges might be more willing to listen to our terms."  
  
"You did this on purpose," Daniel said incredulously. "You're trying to scare them into cooperating."  
  
"That was only a bonus. Mostly I just wanted to shut them up."  
  
"You are trying to help them!"  
  
"No," Jack said patiently. "I was trying to shut them up."  
  
Daniel grinned knowingly. "Sure, Jack."  
  
Jack smiled weakly back, knowing that Daniel thought he'd done it because he cared. He'd done it because they were the people that had killed his best friend and had brought this upon themselves. Daniel wouldn't believe that, though--and there was a part of him that didn't entirely believe it himself.  
  
He looked up when Daniel started back to the briefing room.  
  
"Where are you going?" he demanded.  
  
Daniel spun around, his hands in his pockets. "To try and talk to them."  
  
"But we just decided that wouldn't work!"  
  
"You have your way of dealing with people, Jack," Daniel said with a grin. "I have mine. It may not work, but I won't quit trying."  
  
Jack watched Daniel disappear around the corner, before turning and pressing the call button on the elevator. This time the doors opened. "Don't you ever quit trying," he whispered as he stepped inside.  
  
|The End| 


	6. Heroes

|peace be still|season seven|heroes|missing scene|  
  
"Hey, airman," Jack snapped as he exited the infirmary. "Have you seen Dr. Jackson?"  
  
The young airman stood straighter, and nervously licked his lips. Colonel O'Neill was legendary, and he was intimidating on a good day. With one of their own lost forever, it was about as far from a good day as they could get.  
  
"He told General Hammond he was going to the infirmary, sir," the airman said quickly. "He wasn't visiting you?"  
  
Jack frowned and shook his head, before distractedly waving the young man away. Carter had been in to see him a few minutes earlier, and she had just left to go sit with Cassie. But he hadn't seen Daniel since he had awoken, though he'd been assured by the nurses Daniel had sat beside him for hours before then.  
  
He turned around and wandered back into the infirmary, a few of the beds were occupied with the other injured people brought back, but most were thankfully empty--and Daniel was no where in sight. He caught the attention of a passing nurse.  
  
"Was Dr. Jackson in here?"  
  
The nurse nodded and sadly motioned towards the observation room. Jack turned to look at the dark doorway in disbelief. He nodded his thanks and headed into the room, some light was filtering in from the observation booth a few feet above, but the corners and most of the room was cloaked in shadow.  
  
He swallowed and placed a hand to his side as his injury gave a painful twinge. "Daniel?" he called, stepping a few feet inside.  
  
He didn't know why he didn't simply turn on the light--though he suspected it was somewhat due to the fact he was afraid what he would see.  
  
"You in here?" he tried again.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
Jack sighed. This wasn't good. He'd been hoping that the nurse was wrong and Daniel was sitting somewhere with Teal'c, somewhere in the light and with the comfort of friends. Finding him sitting in the corner of a room he had died in not a year before, alone, in the dark--no doubt reliving the last minutes of Janet's life was definitely not reassuring.  
  
The small amount of light in the room reflected off Daniel's glasses as he looked up, and Jack could make out the outline of his figure now he knew where to look. He was in the farthest corner, with his knees brought up to his chest.  
  
"Yeah," Jack said evenly, stepping further into the room. "It's me."  
  
He saw Daniel move again. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yeah. I've been released, I have some pain meds for a couple days but nothing major."  
  
"That's good," Daniel told him, his voice stumbling over the words.  
  
"Hey, Daniel?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What are you doing in here?" Jack asked him casually.  
  
"I don't know," Daniel answered, sounding honestly confused.  
  
Jack ran a hand through his hair, then determinedly walked to the corner that sheltered his friend. Dropping to the ground beside him, he mirrored Daniel's position and ignored the pain flaring up in his chest at the movements. "Mind if I join you?" he asked after he gotten comfortable.  
  
Even in the dark, Jack could imagine the incredulous look Daniel was giving him.  
  
"Well seeing as you're already sitting down, and with your injuries, probably unable to get up . . ." Daniel trailed off.  
  
Jack winced. Daniel never missed anything. "Have you eaten?" Jack asked. "I'm starving."  
  
"I'm not hungry," Daniel said dispassionately. "You should go eat something."  
  
"I would," Jack said, leaning his head back against the wall and grabbing his sides. "But you were right. I don't think I'm getting up anytime soon."  
  
"Have you heard anything about Sam and Cassie?" Daniel asked quietly. "I've been meaning to find out how they are. I've just been--" Daniel trailed off again, and Jack glanced over at him worriedly.  
  
"I saw Carter a few minutes ago, she's doing as well as can be expected. She says Cassie's coping."  
  
"That's good," Daniel whispered.  
  
"Which," Jack continued, "Leaves you."  
  
"I'm fine, Jack," Daniel said without hesitation.  
  
"That would be a lot more convincing if I hadn't found you in this room alone, Daniel," Jack responded quietly.  
  
"I wanted to be alone," Daniel said. "There's nothing wrong with that. You do it all the time."  
  
"Usually with the lights on," Jack said wryly.  
  
"Are you afraid of the dark?" Daniel asked him softly.  
  
"I'm afraid I found you sitting here alone in the dark, Daniel. This isn't healthy."  
  
"That reporter was by a little while ago," Daniel said, changing the subject smoothly. "I gave him the tape."  
  
"What tape?"  
  
"The one that recorded Janet's death."  
  
Jack gasped and ran a hand across his face. "Jesus, Daniel--" he whispered.  
  
"I dropped it when she was shot," he continued. "I didn't mean to film it-- but, strangely," Daniel paused. "Strangely, I'm glad that I did. I don't want her to be forgotten, Jack."  
  
Jack reached over and placed his hand on the back of Daniel's neck. He squeezed it gently and said, "She won't be. Not by any of us."  
  
Jack's hand fell away, and Daniel buried his head in his arms. They sat there together in the dark, silent and still, and neither were sure how long they remained like that. They lost track of time, and didn't move again until one of the nurses wandered in and turned on the light.  
  
|The End| 


	7. Absolute Power

.torn apart. season four. absolute power. tag .

Power surged through him, coursing out savagely from the tips of his fingers. There was a flash then. A scream. Someone in pain, but even as something in him was horrified he felt himself smiling.

With a gasp, Daniel shot up from the bed, his hands clawing at white sheets--trying to find something to anchor him, keep him from everything that haunted him each time he shut his eyes.

It was Jack this time.

He'd killed Jack this time. And he had enjoyed doing it.

It isn't real, he would always whisper when he woke. Something in him always said back, oh, but it could have been. One different move from any of them, and it could have been.

He'd never told anyone about what Shifu had shown him--that year he had lived in his mind. They would only laugh if they knew. They'd think it was ridiculous. It was too real to him to find funny.

He had lived it. In his mind, granted, but he hadn't known that at the time. And he felt so much older now. As though he had dreamed a thousand years instead of just one.

He kept trying to convince himself that it wasn't really a possibility, what he had seen, but only an exaggeration. A worst case scenario that even had he taken the knowledge, never would have come to be. Someone would have stopped him.

But would they have really?

He wasn't naïve anymore. He knew how far the government would go to protect Earth. They would risk working with a Goa'uld if they thought they could gain from it--they would have worked with him. They would have stood by as he slowly took over the world.

Still, something about that seemed wrong. He had no delusions of grandeur. Could he really accept the fact that perhaps if one thing had been different, he would have found a way to take such total control?

Jack wouldn't have let it happen. Sam wouldn't--well, in the dream, she had tried to stop him. The Pentagon had let him fire her when they realized she might hinder the 'protection' he was creating for Earth. But Jack--Jack would have stopped him.

Jack was the only one in the dream that was wrong. If Jack had known, as he had seemed to, that Daniel was responsible for Teal'c's death then Jack would have confronted him. He wouldn't have quietly disappeared.

He wouldn't have waited so long to pull out a gun. He shouldn't have.

But maybe he would have.

It was hard to say. He and Jack had an unspoken agreement that they would rather die than be a host to the Goa'uld. And maybe he hadn't had a snake wrapped around his spinal cord, but in that dream, he'd been turned into a Goa'uld as sure as any host.

Jack would have stopped him.

He would have. He would have stopped him. Jack wouldn't let him do those things.

Daniel closed his eyes, and a vision of Sam flashed in his mind. She fell to her knees, screaming all the way down. He snapped his eyes open again, breathing heavily and feeling suddenly dizzy.

He'd had nightmares like these for years--but all the times before, he had been the one on the other side of the ribbon device. He longed for those nightmares now, when all he had to worry about was his own pain--they were so much easier to face.

He could hear his heartbeat, even over the roaring of the cars traveling down his sleepless street. His eyes strayed to the phone, and for a moment, he almost picked up. At the last moment he pulled his hand away. Jack had enough problems. He didn't need his as well.

He lay back down, and threw his arm over his eyes. He tried to remember the times he had been happy. Abydos was the first to enter his mind, but the place that had been his home twisted and disappeared, and he found himself back in the SGC, throwing Teal'c across the room with a ribbon device he had no real power to control.

He pressed his eyes shut tighter, trying to block everything out, but the visions only became clearer. With a groan, he opened his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling fan above his bed, watching as it spun around and the street lights reflected off the blades. He let himself become absorbed in its motion, trying to let it lure him away.

But the screaming in the back of his mind would not quiet, and one after another, he had to listen to his friends cry out in pain. Pain he had caused. Well, he hadn't really caused it. But he remembered it like he had.

He remembered everything about it so clearly. He remembered it with even more precision than he could recall all the things that had actually happened to him over the years. And it didn't matter how many times he reminded himself that none of it was real.

He toyed again with the idea of talking with someone, but dismissed it once more. It isn't like anyone else could ever understand--and the last thing he needed was to have it pointed out that none of it happened. He knew that already. The problem was, whether or not it had happened didn't change the fact that it tormented him still.

He tried to hold his eyes open, afraid to even blink, but this was another night among many in which he sought to avoid sleep--and it was catching up with him. People had noticed the shadows under his eyes, and this morning, he'd caught Jack watching him as his hand shook.

He couldn't avoid closing his eyes forever. He twisted his hands again around the sheets, and allowed sleep to pull at him. By the time his hands had relaxed and he was sleeping, he had been drawn back into the nightmare.


End file.
